My opponent charged at me, swinging his fists wildly with deadly force. I danced around his blows and delivered a solid punch to his stomach. When my glove impacted his belly fat, it created a loud clap. He visibly recoiled from the blow.
His fat absorbed most of the impact, but I knew it still hurt a lot. I trained by punching concrete, so to me, his body was nothing but an oversized punching bag. I knew it would take a lot more punches to take him down, and since his fat acted as armor, he didn't have the same weaknesses as others.
He took a step back to recover from the blow and noticed the slightest limp when he did. Yuki was right; he did have an injured knee.
"Something the matter? Don't tell me that a blow like that really hurt you," I mocked.
His face twisted in anger as he stomped on the ground and charged toward me. He forgot his previous cautiousness and charged at me like the feral beast he was
"Get him, Fat Bitch! Teach that child a lesson!"
